The Dark Half
by calicoskies4ever
Summary: What if Alexander and Lex were not brought back together at the end of “Onyx?” Warnings: this should not exist in any universe. Lex makes a deal with Alexander in order to protect the people he cares about even if that means doing something he doesn't wa
1. lust

Okay, so I'm doing a complete re-write of this whole thing, and I am adding a new ending, because the old one sucked. The new ending should be up in a few days.

Warnings: This is my au version of the episode _Onyx_. Alexander/Lex slash non-con, and physical torture.

"We have been sleeping with the lights on  
Just about every night  
Because we are afraid of what the dark might bring  
I know, I know it's just a childish fear  
That grows and grows wild in the middle of me," Everclear

Lex Luthor lifted is head and looked around the darkened cellar. He had heard the footsteps coming down the stairs. Lex was more than familiar with the sound. Alexander was coming. Lex curled up into the fetal position. He wasn't sure whether or not he could handle another beating.

His eyes had adjusted to the darkness quickly enough. He wasn't cold. Alexander fed him. This was, probably, what he deserved, but it didn't mean that Lex enjoyed his new life. He had simply accepted it as such. Alexander stood illuminated in the doorframe, looking like Satan before the fires of Hell. Lex shivered involuntarily. He watched as his "evil twin" came up beside him. Lex knew there was only one chance.

"You can only pretend to be me for so long. People will know something has happened. They'll see the change. My—" Lex stopped. He was going to say _my friends will know_. Only he didn't seem to have any of those these days, even Clark had abandoned him. "Even if they don't, I still have something you need."

"You're wrong. Everyone has always known that you really are like me. Simply put, I don't need to pretend to be anything. I am the real you."

"Even Dad knows that sometimes you've gotta turn on the charm. Some people require a certain amount of finesse. You don't have it, but I do." Lex could only pray that it would work. He had to get out of this room. He had no idea how long he had been gone. It felt like years but was most likely just a few days.

He had to keep Alexander from doing all of the things that he had spent his whole life planning. He had to protect the rest of the world. There were many things he needed to do, but he couldn't do anything unless he got out of the wine cellar.

Lex felt his flesh break out in goose pimples as Alexander kneeled beside him, and put his hand to Lex's face. His touch seemed almost gentle but Luthor knew that his other half wasn't capable of a kind gesture. Not ever. So what was Alexander doing?

"I don't think so, and even if you were right, who says I can't fake sincerity just as well as Dad. I don't need you."

"I can do," Lex paused. He closed his eyes. There had to be something he could offer Alexander. _Everyone has their weaknesses_, _Dad had taught me that_. As much as it pained Lex to do so, he had to find Alexander's weakness, take advantage of it, and then stop him.

"You can what?" Alexander kicked the weakling hard in the stomach. This was fun. He reached down, taking Lex's sweaty, trembling hand in his own, as he bent one of the fingers back until it snapped loudly. Lex began to sniffle. He turned the fingers of his other hand in and dug the nails into his palms until pain flared.

Alexander's face flushed, his heart rate increased, pupils dilated. He felt amazing. This was almost than sex. Well, better than the kind of sex than Lex had been having up until the split. Alexander felt the blood rushing to his cock.

_Damnit! _Why was he stuck in Smallville, Kansas of all places? He was at least an hour away from any good pussy, and that was only if he could get the Luthorcorp chopper immediately. At least Lex was sobbing. Seeing him in this much pain was almost enough to make Alexander cum just standing there. Perhaps, Lex did have something he needed after all.

"Anything you want," Lex whimpered with wide, wet eyes. "Anything in the universe. Please." Alexander looked down at the tiny, pale, and fragile body beneath him. Lex had never admitted it, out loud but both halves were farm more found of men than women. They just knew better than to cause a scandal. He had kept Lex from persueing love interests because _he_ could invasion the headlines, and _he_ wanted as much money and power as he could get his hands on.

Even a girlfriend could cause potential problems that Alexander didn't want to deal with. Women talked too much, both to him and to other people. They might go to the police or the papers with their horror stories. Lex was happy with fairly conventional sex, while his interests were, of course, much darker. He considered the idea of having his own personal sex slave. Alexander looked at the man on the floor again feeling his cock grow completely hard. Perhaps Lex had something he needed after all.


	2. pain

"I need you to hit me and  
make me shake  
I need you to hurt me and  
make me beg for more  
I need you to bend me and  
make me break  
I need you to make me feel like  
I am your whore," Everclear

When Lex awoke he felt afraid and confused. He had grown so accustomed to his prison in the cellar and now…but this was very different. Lex was in a bed, probably still in the mansion, although possibly someplace else. He knew all this without opening his eyes. He could also feel the sun warming the room and saw the light even with his lids closed. Last night was a painful, nauseating blur.

Lex was laying face down on the bed his head turned to the side. There was a strange taste in his mouth, a mixture of something salty and copper-tasting. Without thinking, he knew he could identify both tastes. Blood and…something Lex didn't want to think about, but at least it wasn't the cellar. As this thought ran through his mind, Lex realized he could not feel his arms.

Everything from his wrists to his armpits was numb. He jerked his left arm slightly, but it wouldn't budge. He pulled harder, yanking with every once of strength in his body. Lex's eyes fluttered open in panic. Pain exploded in his arm shooting all the way to his fingertips, even past the handcuffs, as Lex's right shoulder was ripped from its socket….

The world went dark.

Lex awoke sometime later still in agony but no longer shackled to the bed. His arm didn't hurt as much as before. Now it had a dull, partially numb, cold ache. Alexander was standing above him with a dark look in his eyes and a wolfish grin on his face. Lex tried to sit up but the pain returned at full force, causing Lex to spill the contents of his stomach all over his face and chest. He groaned.

"Get up! You disgust me, you pathetic weakling!" Alexander ordered "And I don't want to hear you whine about your arm. That's your own damn fault. That was particularly stupid, you know, I almost had to call a doctor. Luckily, I managed to fix it myself." Lex sat up slowly, the room still spinning around and round. He needed to be led by the hand to the bathroom, like a child. Humiliated and defeated, Lex stepped into the shower and turned the warm water on with his good hand.

Soon after the spray hit Lex's battered and bruised body, Alexander stripped of his own outfit and slammed his other half against the shower wall. Lex used his right arm to brace himself, holding his body up with twitching muscles.

Alexander gripped his own cock as he watched the pitiful reflection of himself shake. He began to stroke it fervently. When it was standing straight up, pressing against his taught hairless belly, he took Lex by the shoulder, and pushed him forward, pinning him to the wall. He held the weakling there using his shoulder. With one hand he gripped Lex by the waist, digging his fingers into the soft flesh. Alexander's cock slipped into the tight but comfortable space. Lex's shoulders and chest began to heave, and Alexander could tell that the wetness on the other mans face was not from the shower. A soft whispered escaped from Lex's lips.

"Please, no," he begged. Alexander clamped his hand over Lex's mouth. He felt hot wet tears on his knuckles and smiled.

"Why would you say that? You were the one who offered your _services_ to me." He removed his hand momentarily. "If you scream I will tear your arm right back out, and I won't fix it this time," he warned.

"I—," Lex stammered. Alexander pulled back a little, but then shoved himself forward. "It hurts," Lex managed finally.

"Of course it does," Alexander explained when he was finished. "Now clean yourself off. There are some clothes in your room, if you want them, but I don't see any real need." Alexander rinsed himself off quickly, and then stepped out of the shower. Once dry he pulled on his clothes, and locked the bedroom door as he left.


	3. fear

I took off the original ending, and like I said, am working on a new one as we speak. It should be up in a few days.

"I don't wanna be your whipping boy,  
some pathetic little loser, someone you can ignore. I will not let you overwhelm me anymore," Everclear.

Lex felt his body shaking uncontrollably, as he sat in the corner of the shower. He cowered under the scalding water for what seemed like hours. He stayed even after the heat ran out, and his body was sprayed with a barrage of frozen bullets. Finally, he worked up the courage to stand. He turned off the water, and started to explore his new quarters. The bathroom had a shower, sink, toilet, a rug, and a towel bar with a big, white, fluffy towel. Lex wrapped it around his waist, feeling it stick slightly to his backside.

What had he been thinking? Was _this_ actually going to accomplish anything? He didn't have the power to stop Alexander. He could barely keep the monster from killing him. Lex knew the only reason he was alive was out of fear. Alexander didn't know what might happen to him, if his other half were to die. Lex had become a punching bag, a way in which Alexander could work out his anger, frustration, and apparently his most basic, animal needs. So there he was, trapped in a room somewhere in the mansion, an eternal prisoner, and sex toy for an evil, comic book villain.

Lex wished he could escape, kill the monster, and live happily ever after, but such an ending could never be possible…not for someone like him. Lex had done so many bad things in his life, and even if they were Alexander's fault, he still hated himself. He searched the bathroom for an item he could use against his keeper. _There's got to be a weapon in this damn place_, he thought. Lex no longer cared whether or not he lived. It just hurt too much to go on. Nothing would ever be good again. The only thing he had left to do was rid the world of Alexander. Lex had to stop the man before he did any more damage, even if it meant costing him his life.

He rummaged through every drawer and closet in the bedroom as well, but found nothing, except clothes, a few pens, and pad of paper. Lex sat down on the bed and closed his eyes. He knew that there was only one person who could help him, but Clark was not coming to his rescue this time, unless Alexander tried to harm him in someway. And even then, he knew who Clark would blame. _You know how dangerous those rocks are! I don't care how pure your motives were that was a stupid, careless…people could have been killed! _"Please," he prayed, "don't let him—do anything to Clark." Lex shivered at the thought. God only knows what his dark side might do when it came to the Kent boy. There had been dreams, naturally, both the good and the bad, but even with Alexander inside of him, Lex always awoke frightened, and disgusted by the darker fantasies. He didn't want to believe that his mind was capable of such thoughts and, until now, he'd be able to convince himself that it was just a dream.

All Lex could do was continue to pray for the safety of his old friend. As for his own safety, well there wasn't anything he could do about that. Lex had begged for mercy and was not obliged. Alexander _liked_ hurting him. The bastard seemed to get some perverse pleasure out of pain, fear, and suffering. Lex knew it would be best if he didn't struggle, and if he could position himself carefully, he wouldn't be injured further. And then one night, perhaps if his twin had been drinking just a little too much…

And Lex would have to do something he had never thought possible. One night Alexander would fall asleep beside his reluctant lover, and Lex would take a pillow and…when the door handle turned, there were fresh tears in his eyes and a plan still forming in the back of his brain.

Alexander had just finished one of the most wonderful days of his life. Luthorcorp was more successful than ever, even under Lionel's rule, and Clark Kent had finally come to realize he had no choice but to join up with Luthor. Soon the world would be his, and so when he came to see his prisoner, Alexander brought a bottle of Dom Perignon.

He watched with great joy as his prey jumped and Lex's eyes widened. Yes, he had quite a bit to celebrate. The blood stained cloth fell from Lex's thin waist, and Alexander smiled. _What a pathetic weakling, _he thought. _At least he's going to cry. That should be enough to get me started._ He popped the buckle on his belt, dropped his trousers on the floor, and took a step closer, stroking Lex's soft, hairless jaw. He sat down, and began touching himself, as Lex whimpered, physically shaking once again. The 'poor baby' was starting to get stronger though. Alexander pinched Lex's nose, twisting it between his fingers. Lex screamed, and pulled away just in time to save it from being broken.

"So," Alexander asked, holding his cock stiffening between his fingers and rubbing against his hand and the green ring on his left hand. "How _do_ you want to do this? Here," Alexander rubbed his thumb against Lex's smooth lips. "Or here?" His hand slid down the side of Lex's face, neck, shoulder, and back, down, down, down. Lex's body was shaking even harder, red tears running down his cheeks. "My, my—you're dehydrated. And crying blood. I'd feel bad for you if it wasn't so—wonderful."

"I—cant," Lex croaked, squeezing his eyes shut. Alexander grabbed him by the neck, forcing Lex's head down into his lap.

"Well then, if you can't choose, we'll have to do both." Alexander chuckled, watching Lex as he started to sob.

Suddenly the door burst open and Clark Kent appeared, illuminated like an angle. He glared at the two men, and Alexander's hand exploded in a mess of heat and pain. When it was all over there was only one man left. Clark raced over and touched his back gently.

"Lex?" he asked softly. "Lex, are you alright?" Lex Luthor say up slowly and groggily…

TBC


	4. recovery

"I wish I could push a button and make the pain all go away  
I wish I had the magic words but I don't know what to say  
I wish I could take the wasted years and throw them all away  
And it might sound easy for me to say  
You are going to find a way to fix what's broken  
Fix what's broken," Everclear

I don't remember much of anything from the whole experience. Most of what I do remember is an empty, faceless, silent, dark series of emotions. I remember pain, then I was scared, absolutely terrified. There was more pain, fear, darkness all around me, and even more pain. I remember my hand feeling as if an explosion had gone off inside of me, and then I think I passed out.

When I came to, I was lying on the floor, a towel draped over my waist. My left arm ached with an ice cold fire, and at the same time it was almost numb. I tried to lift it and a stick of dynamite went off in my shoulder, sending waves of intense nauseating pain through my entire body. Everything went dark for a moment, and then I heard the voice of an angel.

"Lex?" Clark whispered, barely audible. When I opened my eyes, he was standing over me, dropping to his knees, and holding his hand out for me to take. It wasn't until I stood up that I noticed the blood trailing down my legs in a slow but steady trickle. An image flashed before my eyes.

_I was in the shower, facing the wall. I was holding myself up with one arm, the other hung lifelessly at my side. I felt hot breath on the back of my neck. Somebody was behind me, and he was—oh God! "No! Stop. Please stop," I begged. White hot pain seared through my whole body, as I was slammed up against the wall, then darkness…_

_I was in the water as it scalded me, changing my skin to the color of a tomato, but it still wasn't warm enough to clean away the pain, or the fear. I tried to wish the memory away. I visualized it melting, falling into the tub, and slipping down the drain like water._

Then I was back in the room with Clark at my side.

"I," my voice squeaked out hoarsely. My throat ached, even more so than when Dad/Clark choked me. It was the same pain, only more intense. Breathing hurt more than anything else, which was hard to believe because almost everything hurt. "He…pain." I wanted to tell Clark everything, or at least what I did know, but the words didn't come. They couldn't, or they wouldn't. I was too scared and in too much pain to figure out whether my mind was betraying me, or if I was simply unable to communicate for the same reason I was unable to breathe.

"I think your arm is broken—I remember the phone number for that Toby guy, if you want me to call him, or I could just dial 9-1-1. Lex?" Clark whispered, lifting me up, gently, and laying me down on the bed.

"I—" Clark knew what I wanted without my needing to ask. He grabbed the pad of paper and pen. _What did I do?_ I scribbled feverishly. Clark looked away before answering.

"It wasn't you. I know it. You know it. Chloe knows it, and I'm gonna tell Lana—"

_I hurt her?_

"_He_ kissed her, and threatened to close the Talon."

_I won't do that. Tell her that and NOTHING ELSE._ Clark sat down on the edge of the mattress, but stood up the moment he noticed I was shaking uncontrollably.

"Lex, it wasn't you. As much as you think that guy is part of you, he's not. I saw what happened when you two re-bonded. Most of you is this guy. The guy I think of as my best friend. The guy I—the guy I've had a crush on ever since he hit me with his car, and I had to rescue him—that guy won out. He's—you're a lot more him than the other one."

_You're just saying that because it's what you want to believe. That guy is part of me too. He didn't vanish into thin air. I still feel him inside m—I have a sense of a few of the things he did—mostly what he did to me._ I put the pen down, whimpering, and trying my hardest not to sob.

"You're _not_ him. I can see who you really are, what you're capable of, how you think and feel. I love you, not because you're sexy or because you're rich, but I love you for who you really are, deep down inside. I love you, and I trust you to make the right decisions, and to do the right things."

Then Clark began to cry. It was only for an instant, but he stopped himself. "So what do you want?" he asked, sitting back on the bed, gently stroking the side of my face. I don't know why, but I became terrified of him then. I started shaking again, and I must have screamed bloody murder, because the next thing to happen was this…my father raced up the stairs, and into the room.

When he opened the door, he stared straight at me, horrified. I can only imagine how I must have looked, naked, bleeding, covered in bruises, smelling like cum—despite the three hours I spent in the shower—screaming, and quivering. I was a mess. Dad raced across the room to my side.

"What—what did you—what did you do to my son," he shouted, in all too familiar tone of voice. "It's all right, Lex. I'm here. Nobody is _ever _going to hurt you again. I'm calling an ambulance," he continued to speak as though Clark were the one responsible for what was done to me.

"Dad," I forced the words through my swollen throat, each letter a thousand times more agonizing than the last. "It (gasp) wasn't (gasp) him (gasp)." My father pulled me up into his arms.

"Mr. Luthor, what Lex wanted to tell you was that there was an accident at the lab. The meteor rocks they were using exploded. Lex's body split into two halves, two different people. There was—and I know how hard this is to believe, but we have proof—there was a good Lex and an evil one," Clark tried to explain.

"So you are telling me Lex did this to himself, literally?" My father looked over at Clark as if he wanted to murder him.

"It's (gasp. God I was starting to hate myself.) true. Other—(gasp)—Lex (gasp) not gone (gasp) just (gasp) normal (gasp) now. (gasp) Clark (gasp) stopped it (gasp) stopped (gasp) him—saved me," I wheezed, pulling my les up to my chest, hugging my knees with the one good arm.

In the end, we called Toby. He fixed my arm, and put in eleven stitches, without saying a single word. Clark sat right next to me, letting me squeeze his hand, and promising never to abandon me, ever again. He said he loved me for the first time, and he kept saying it. I told him the same thing.

Toby said that my breathing and speaking would return to normal in a few days. Meanwhile, he gave me a couple tanks of oxygen, and a mask, not to mention the pills. While my body healed, Clark stayed with me the entire time I was getting physically better.

One night, about a week after I came back to normal, my father came to visit me. Clark and I were playing. I was sitting up in bed, using the sling Toby had put my arm in, to hold my cards and Clark promised not to cheat. Clark was drinking a soda, and laughing at a joke I had just made…something to do with driving slowly.

All week we'd been working together to help me over come my fear of any and all physical contact. I still only had bits and pieces of time from the split. Most of me just wanted to repress it like everything else in my life. Unfortunately, the bits I did remember always came back in my nightmares.

_I'm in a dark place. The air all around me is damp, moldy. I could be in a grave year just as easily as I could be in the mansion. What time is it? What day is it? Where am I? I hear footsteps up above me, but knew better than to call for help. _

_Once I had been so sure I'd heard my father's voice that I called out to him for help. He didn't come, but the other one did. It's still dark when the door swings open. Then the monster is right next to me, screaming at me, kicking me, stopping on my back and chest. There isn't an inch of my body that isn't bruised and aching. I hated the sound of him coming down the steps._

_I dread his approach, and yet desperately need him in order to survive. I cry, and beg the monster to stop. I offer him everything. His reply is laughter. "I already have it," he tells me, "everything that was yours is now mine. Everything." I whimper, sob, scream, kick, beg, but nothing helps. He does not stop. He only hurts me. The monster tares me up from the inside, like a parasite eating his way out of his host's body._

"Shush," my father's soft words and gentle touch drew me from the dream. I was transported back to my new bedroom, and the new light blue sheets. "It's all right now, Lex," he promises. At least Dad wasn't around to see the things I did.

"Clark," I called out. Dad says I've been doing a lot of this lately. I'd done it so much, Clark and my father had agreed it would be best if he moved in and switched to home tutoring so Clark could come whenever I needed him.

I still didn't feel like talking, nor had I begun to describe my "ordeal," as Lionel called it. Neither of them was pushing me to talk, or work, or anything else. All they asked was if I wanted to leave Smllville, with Dad and Clark. "I think it would be good if we could get me away—physically from the bad memories." Clark touched my hand softly. I nodded standing and climbing out of bed.

I was sleeping more back then, mostly because of the anti-anxiety pills. Despite his kinder, gentler disposition, my father was and is a business man at heart. When we moved back to Metropolis, he worked from 6:00-10:00 in the morning, while Clark stayed with me. Then Clark did some school work, and we all ate lunch together at 1:00. My father watched over me from 10:00 until 4:00, working from home, only when they really needed him.

Most of the time, we played Chess. He went easy on me, but did not let me win. He was teaching me to be better. Then he went back to work until 9:00 when we all had a late supper together.

Often Clark would lay in bed with me, although he asked when he held, kissed, or touched me in any way. Lionel had set up our bedroom with two king-sized beds, so that we could all sleep together even when I needed to be physically alone.

Sex for me was probably the most difficult part of my recovery. Clark and I had never actually done anything before—although there had been a kiss…once. With Clark I almost felt as though there was anything wrong. He could wrap his arms around me, hold my body right up against his, kiss me, whisper in my ear, and even touch me…

I was slightly less comfortable when it came to me touching his body, I'm not sure why, but he was eternally patient about the whole thing, and we did—eventually end up sleeping in our own room sometime near Christmas. My father on the other hand, seemed to be terrified of causing me any trauma.

He wouldn't kiss me anymore, not even on the forehead. Sometimes he hugged me, or patted my hand, shoulder, but most of the time, he stayed away. I knew he was only trying to be nice, except I started to get tired of it right around the time Clark and I found ourselves a separate room. It was both my father, and my own first Christmas in years, and Clark's first time away from his family for the holidays, and we all went a little overboard with the well with everything, actually.

I had yet to go back to work at this point, not because I couldn't, I way just enjoying the time off. My plan was to go into Dad's office, only to tell him I'd be returning after the holiday, but as my hand touched the doorknob, I turned background, unable to give in so easily. I simply needed to know why he refused to touch me.

"Do you find me disgusting?" I asked, turning around to face him again. There was a fourteen foot tall tree in the corner, decorated with ornaments, popcorn, tinsel, ribbons, fake snow, and an angle on the top—Clark put it there. Despite the beauty of the tree, the room smelled overwhelmingly of pine. Dad kept the window open a crack, but it didn't seem to be helping.

"What? No! Lex, I love—Lex look at me—Lex," he called sternly, and I lifted my head. "Of course not. I love you just as much as ever."

"Then why won't you touch me anymore?" I pleaded, traipsing back across the room, and sitting on the edge of his armchair. My father moved towards the other armrest, as though he were trying to fold himself in half, just to get away from me.

"Don't be ridiculous, Son. I gave you a hug—this morning. After breakfast, remember?"

"I'm not losing my memory, or anything else. I've been feeling a lot better lately. Even Clark agreed that I don't need a babysitter anymore. You know I'm not talking about a quick hug, or two, or three or ten. You know what I'm asking for."

"No I don't. What _do_ you want from me, Lex?" he asked, taking his hand, and patting mine, then picking it up softly. "Clark doesn't have enough energy for you?"

"He's got more than plenty for both of us," I winked and smiled at him. Next I lifted my father's hand to my mouth, but Dad pulled away. "You don't like me anymore?"

"Of course I do. I love and like you with nearly all of my heart. Lex you need to understand that it has always been difficult for me—loving you the way I do. You're my child and you could b ea thousand years old, but I would still see you as such. At least I felt that way until I came home one day to see you bleeding, bruised, beaten…" his voice trailed off.

"But he didn't beat me, not entirely. I'm a lot stronger than he thought. I might not be the same man I was, but I—you don't change. You're still treating me the same way you did when you found out about…what happened to me."

"Because whenever I look at you, that's all I can see," he blurted out, then stood up, and walked all the way across the room. I watched completely helpless as my father ran his fingers through his hair roughly, as if he meant to rip it out.

"Dad, please. I need you right now. Just sit on the couch with—put your arms around me. If you think it wouldn't freak you out, you can look at me. I can take my shirt off. My scares have faded almost completely. The cuts and bruises are gone, and my shoulder is almost back to normal."

"You're alright then?" he asked, sitting down on the sofa, watching me. "Don't move, not yet. I want things to go back to the way they were. You're an excellent lover, a beautiful young man—a sweet and wonderful son…"

"Dad, four years ago you held a foil to my jugular vein, with a smile on your face—and I know—you've changed. I'm grateful for it, I think you really love me now, but you didn't before…or I didn't know it. I was just thinking that maybe the old Dad wasn't all horrible. I miss your fingers, your touch—the sound of your voice in my ear."

"You want me to start having sex with you again?" My father stood up a second time, pacing back and forth, back and forth, back, and forth. "Lex, I don't know—I'm not sure I could do that."

"Well, we don't have to go that far, not yet—and we can go slowly, like Clark and I did. Maybe he could even be with us. He can show you how to do stuff nice and gentle, the way I like…" Then he interrupted me.

"Lex take off your shirt," my father said, flatly, and before I could protest, he told me something else. "Let me see how you're healing up. Let me see if I can look at you and not see…"

"It's not always easy," Clark announced as he stepped through the door, as if the whole scene had been scripted perfectly in a movie, or a play. "But Lex _is _worth it. He's worth everything."

"Yes he is," Dad said, and I knew that the three of us were onto something good.

_Fin_


End file.
